


All I Need Is a Miracle (All I Need Is You)

by treez_r_green



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Cancer, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 18:30:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treez_r_green/pseuds/treez_r_green
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James is a healthy twenty-something. He doesn't smoke, he goes running every day and he eats all his greens. So, when he is diagnosed with a life-threatening type of cancer, it comes as a bit of a surprise. Good job he has his best friend beside him to provide support and inappropriate jokes. Oh and love, let’s not forget the love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Need Is a Miracle (All I Need Is You)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a movie AU based on the film _50/50._ Title is from the Mike and The Mechanics song _Miracle._

“Jesus Christ, I think I’m going to be sick.” Michael was hunched over on the path, holding on to his stomach.

“You are not going to be sick,” James replied evenly, “just calm down.”

“ _Calm down!?_ How can I calm down? My best friend just told me he has cancer! This is the worst news ever! Oh God, I feel dizzy, I think I’m going to faint!” James sighed and rested his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Just come sit down a sec,” he said, leading Michael over to a bench in the park where they had been having their regular Sunday morning ‘hangover brunch’ and people watching (read: spying) when James had sprang the news. 

“What kind of cancer is it?” asked Michael when he’d finally calmed down enough to look James in the eye without bursting into another melodramatic, Oscar-worthy performance.

“Er...Schwannoma Neurofibro...back cancer, basically.”

“Sounds serious.”

“Well...yeah.”

“Is it..? Can they..? What are the chances of you beating this thing?” Michael settled on, after obviously running through all the possible questions in his mind.

“Well, the doctor didn’t say exactly but I looked it up and it said there’s a fifty percent survival rate for the type of cancer I have.” James tried to keep his voice neutral and his hands steady to avoid setting Michael off again. In a way he was glad he could count on Michael to hilariously overreact, it meant James got the chance to be the calm, rational one instead of breaking down into floods of tears. His mother would just look at him with heart-broken eyes and fuss over him; he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it together. 

He was dreading telling Sarah most of all. He knew she wouldn’t want the responsibility, but she wouldn’t want to be seen as the bitch who abandoned her sick boyfriend either, so she’d stay out of some sense of duty, and that would be the worst. At least with Michael, James knew where he stood. Michael was the most honest person James knew, he’d never dream of saying or doing anything just because of other people’s reactions and he’d never once hidden how he felt from James. Some people found him rude or abrupt but James thought it was refreshing and the reason why Michael was the first person he told.

“Well, fifty percent, that’s not so bad. Lots of good things come in halves. Half a pint, half an hour, half time, a glass half full...” James looked at him.

“Now you’re just saying things with ‘half’ in them.”

“Okay, well, celebrities!”

“What?”

“Celebrities! Loads of celebrities have survived cancer: Kylie Minogue, Robert DeNiro, he’s pretty badass, and who’s that dancing dude?”

“Er...Patrick Swayze?”

“Yeah, him! He’s pretty cool.”

“Um, yeah, but Michael, that guy’s dead.”

“Oh. Forget that one then. But anyway, those other ones are fine and you will be too.” Michael grinned and wrapped his arm around James’ shoulders. He seemed to have cheered himself up anyway, even if James wasn’t entirely reassured. 

“You know, is cancer one of those times where they give you medical weed?” Michael asked.

“Um, maybe yeah.”

“Sweet.” James smiled; he could always trust Michael to point out the positives in any situation.

***  
Telling Sarah went pretty much exactly like he expected it to. It was obvious that she couldn’t handle it but when he tried to give her an out she wouldn’t accept it, saying that she wasn’t going to leave him in his hour of need. He was grateful to her for that, or at least he would be if he thought she was doing it because she loved him and not because she didn’t want to look like a total cow to his friends and family. It was an awkward situation, he liked Sarah, he did, but to be honest he wasn’t really sure what they were doing together. Sarah was beautiful, stunning in fact. Michael used to say that James would never get a woman that hot again so he better make the most of it. That was until the cancer thing, then he started saying that James should just ditch her and let his real friends take care of him. James graciously refrained from pointing out the hypocrisy in that since Michael was the one to introduce them. 

Sarah was a model and Michael, being a photographer, knew lots of models. He was always trying to set James up with them but they were always more interested in the tall, chiselled guy with the camera than the short, scruffy writer. Sarah was the first one who’d shown a real interest in him and she was interesting, funny. Her life didn’t revolve round her job like some of the models’ he’d met, she had other interests too. She was a keen artist and her presents to James were always various paintings she had made. To be honest her art was a bit abstract for James’ tastes, he didn’t really understand most of it but he appreciated the gesture. He preferred Michael’s art. His real photography, the stuff he did for himself, not for the magazine, was raw and gritty and incredibly beautiful. James secretly thought his friend was far too talented to be working for a glossy magazine but he daren’t bring it up around Sarah, she didn’t like Michael much, thought he was a bad influence on James and the matter was a bit of a sore spot between them.

Tonight was the night he was due to tell his mother about his illness and he was starting to regret drafting Sarah in as moral support instead of Michael. Michael would have made several inappropriate jokes and probably ‘accidentally’ told James’ mother about various alcohol and drug-fuelled nights they’d been on but at least James would have been more relaxed with him there. For some reason James couldn’t work out, James’ mother liked Michael, she didn’t like Sarah. James asked Michael about it once, he’d said; “Mothers always love me, it’s my cheeky Irish charm, and besides, Sarah’s a model, mothers never trust a model with their son.”

The first half of the dinner was so awkward. James’ mother knew she was there for a reason and she kept asking what the news was; he suspected she was terrified they were going to tell her Sarah was pregnant. He half thought she would prefer the cancer. He just didn’t know how to tell her, she would be so devastated.

“For God’s sake James, just tell her,” Sarah said, finally having had enough of the tense silence.

“Tell me what? James, what’s going on?” 

“Mum, I have cancer.”

***  
“So, how did it go?” Michael asked. They were hanging out on James’ sofa, watching old _Friends_ re-runs and playing a drinking game with ridiculous rules they’d thought up at university.

“Well, she was surprisingly calm about the whole situation actually,” Michael shot James the look that he liked to call _The Disbelieving Eyebrow Raise_ “...at least until she found out how bad the cancer was and then she threatened to move in with me.” James finished.

“Oh God, you did manage to convince her otherwise, didn’t you?” Michael asked.

“Well, Sarah said she was going to look after me so I think that calmed her down a bit.”

“Sarah’s going to look after you?” Cue the re-appearance of _The Disbelieving Eyebrow Raise._

“Well, she didn’t seem entirely enthusiastic about it to be honest but she’s taking me to my first chemo appointment tomorrow so we’ll so how that goes.”

***

How it went was that Sarah refused to come into the hospital with him, instead insisting that she was going to come back later and pick him up because hospitals gave her ‘negative vibes.’ James guessed that he could understand that a bit, some people had bad experiences with hospitals; it could be a trigger to some traumatising past. He wasn’t aware of Sarah having anything like that happen to her but then again maybe she wasn’t comfortable telling him about it yet. However, he would have liked to have some company for his first chemo treatment, it was more than a little daunting, and maybe he should have let his mother come after all. He thought about it. Then again, maybe he was better going alone. 

The chemo turned out to have some positives. In the therapy room he met two other patients undergoing treatment. They were both much older than him and introduced themselves by their names and their type of cancer. Ian was cheeky and hilarious and Patrick was a quiet, clever man, whose wife had made ‘weed macaroons’ that he brought with him in a Tupperware box.

“How strong are these exactly?” James asked, only thinking to ask the question after stuffing his second macaroon in.

“Stroooong!” sing-songed Ian and the three of them fell about laughing. Maybe this chemo thing wouldn’t be so hard after all.

Of course, it would have been better if Sarah had remembered to come and pick him up on time. He’d been waiting outside the hospital for nearly an hour when she finally showed up, full of excuses and hurried apologies. 

***

“She did what!?” Michael’s outraged cry could probably heard all down the street, James thought.

“Well, she...” James started, “no, yeah, it was pretty bad.” He finished lamely.

“Right, that’s it, I’m taking you to all your hospital appointments from now on and I’m sitting with you the whole time.” Michael said decisively.

“Come on, Michael, you don’t have to do that. It’s not gonna be much fun for you.” James said. He didn’t want to burden his friend with that responsibility but he knew his protests were futile, once Michael got an idea into his head you were hard-pressed to talk him out of it. 

“Oh, I dunno, chatting to a couple of hilarious old dudes and getting stoned on delicious cakes, sounds alright to me.” Michael grinned, and James knew he had lost this one. Like many before him he was powerless to resist the charm of one of Michael Fassbender’s smiles, especially when directed solely at him.

“You should probably let your mother help you out more as well,” Michael forged on, obviously never having heard of the phrase ‘quit while you’re ahead’. 

“Oh come on, you know what she’s like. Anyway, you were all tea and sympathy when she threatened to move in.” James whined. He loved his mother, of course he did, but he just couldn’t face her right now. Whenever he looked at her all he could see was sadness and pity, it made him feel weak when he needed to be strong to fight this thing. 

“I’m not saying invite her to live with you, just involve her a bit more. She’s really concerned about you. You know she called me the other day, said she was worried you were shutting her out.” Michael said, he had his _Serious Face_ on so James knew he was being genuine.

“She did?” That was news to James, he was unaware his mother even had Michael’s phone number. 

“Yeah, look, we love you James, we’re just trying to help.” _We?_ James looked up but Michael was already standing, moving into the kitchen to make tea, and the moment was gone. 

***

“Now, are you sure you want to do this?” Michael asked, wielding the electric razor in one hand. They were in Michael’s tiny bathroom, and James was about to either make a very brave or a very stupid decision.

“Yes. Well, no. Really, no. I love my hair, I have beautiful hair!” He cried, looking into the mirror and stroking his hand through his once-thick locks.

“You do, you really do; you’re a pretty, pretty princess alright.” Michael said, grinning from behind James.

“But I’m already losing it, look!” James turned big, anguished eyes on Michael as he brandished a lock of hair that had departed from his crowning glory. “I might as well get it over with,” he sighed, “I’ll only look more ridiculous with half my hair fallen out.”

“Would it help if I shaved mine too?” asked Michael.

“Seriously?” James turned in his chair to look Michael in his real eyes, rather than his mirror-eyes. “You’d really do that for me?”

“Of course. I reckon I’d look alright with a buzz cut, enhances my bad-boy image.” Michael smirked.

“You have a bad-boy image?” James asked, incredulous. He knew Michael was a cheeky chappy but he couldn’t really equate his happy-go-lucky, flare-for-the-dramatic friend with the ‘bad-boy’ label.

“Damn right,” said Michael, heart-stopping grin firmly in place, “S’why the ladies love me!” Well, that part was true, women did love Michael. Wherever they went he was bound to have women talking to him and he flirted like he was breathing, got tons of phone numbers too. He had never really seemed serious about it though, James could hardly remember the last time he’d heard Michael talk about a girlfriend or use any of the many phone numbers he was so accustomed to winning and he’d never been in a serious relationship all the time James had known him. In the past, James had wondered if Michael might be gay, but for all that he didn’t seem to date women, he didn’t seem to date men either so James figured Michael would tell him if he wanted to and if he didn’t then it was none of James’ business, Michael would still be James’ best friend either way. 

“Alright then, let’s do this thing!” Michael said as switched the trimmer on and started to shear James’ precious locks away with gentle precision. Michael was actually pretty good at this and James could feel himself relaxing more at the gentle touch of Michael’s fingers and the soft buzzing of the trimmer. 

“Ok, all done.” James gingerly opened his eyes. Huh. Michael had actually done a really good job. James still wished he could have kept his hair but the chemo was already making it fall out and it actually didn’t look half as bad as he’d feared, thanks to Michael.

“Do you have a secret past life as a barber that I don’t know about?” James asked.

“I’m just a man of many talents.” Michael winked at James. “Alright, now me,” he said, handing the trimmer to James. 

“Michael, you don’t have to,” James protested. 

“No, fair’s fair. Can’t have you looking like an escaped convict all on your own now can I?” Michael teased. James smiled, he may be fighting for his life but at least he knew he had someone fighting right alongside him.

***  
James lay on the sofa feeling crappy. The anti-nausea medication they prescribed him at the hospital gave him an unbearable headache, but if he didn’t take it he felt really sick. He felt tired and weak all the time. He’d been lying in the dark for twenty minutes now because he just couldn’t summon the energy to get up and switch the light on. He could really use a hug. Anything more than that would probably be out of the question since his sex drive was at an all-time low. Not that it really made much difference; he and Sarah hadn’t had sex since before he’d even been diagnosed. He could use a cuddle though. Sarah wasn’t really one for cuddling, she said she found it ‘weirdly intimate’, which James thought was an odd thing to say to someone you’d just finished having sex with, but each to their own. Maybe she’d make an exception when she came round later, since he felt so rough.

Michael was a hugger, he was generally overly physically affectionate with everyone, but he too was out tonight, having been roped in to some launch event for a new magazine. He hadn’t wanted to go but James had persuaded him. Michael needed to have his own life too; he shouldn’t feel obliged to revolve his life around James just because James was sick. And besides, it was important for Michael to go to these events, to make new contacts. 

James looked up as the door opened and Sarah walked in.

“Oh, hey, you didn’t have to wait up for me,” she said.

“I wanted to. Come here.” James lifted his arms up for a hug.

“Not now, babe, I’m tired. I’m just going to go to bed alright?” Sarah wandered into the kitchen and James lay back down, deflated. He idly wondered what the point of her coming round to his place was, if she was just going to go to bed and not even interact with him, when there was a scuffle outside the door right before it flung wide open and Michael marched in.

“Hey, Michael,” James chuckled to himself, amused by his friend’s dramatic entrance. He was sure that Michael had insisted on having his own key for that very reason.

“Michael? What the hell? It’s practically the middle of the night!” Sarah said, disgruntled, coming back into the living room. Michael let the door shut behind him as he dug through his pockets, finally fishing out his phone and shoving it in Sarah’s face.

“I’ve got you!” he shouted. “All this time I knew you were no good for him and this time I’ve got you!”

“You’re drunk!” Sarah stated, trying to grab Michael’s phone.

“Michael, what’s going on?” James asked from the sofa, and they both turned to look at him, as if suddenly remembering he was there. Michael came over to him and sat on the end of the sofa, his voice softer now as he said,

“You know that event you persuaded me to go to tonight?” James nodded, “well, Sarah was there. She didn’t see me, but I saw her. She was kissing another man.” He handed James the phone which showed a picture of two people kissing. It was blurry but it could clearly be recognised as her. “I’m sorry,” Michael said, resting his hand on James’ knee.

“Sorry!? You’re not sorry at all,” Sarah spat viciously; “you couldn’t wait to get me out the way so you could get your claws in him.” James watched as her face twisted into something hateful.

“I think it’s time you left Sarah.” James’ voice was quiet, detached.

“Come on, James you can’t seriously think that...look, can we just talk about this, please?” she begged. James sighed.

“Ok, fine, Michael, can you give us a minute.” Michael gave him a look. “It’s ok,” he reassured him. Michael nodded and stood up, retreating to the kitchen where James knew he could at least pretend not to be eavesdropping.

“Look, Sarah,” James began, “I know this hasn’t been easy on you, but I gave you an out.”

“I know you did,” she said, anger fading now, “but I couldn’t just abandon you!”

“So you decided to cheat on me instead?” Sarah looked ready to argue back but James cut her off. “It’s ok, it’s fine. I just honestly don’t have the energy to argue with you right now. I’m not angry, really, I’d just prefer it if you left, you can come back and get your stuff while I’m at the hospital.” Sarah looked like she was ready to say something else but she stopped, resigned.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” she said, “I do care about you, you know, I hope you’ll be ok.”

“I know,” James replied, “I will be.” Sarah left and James sank back into the sofa as he heard the door shut behind her, turning his head to the side and burying his face in his hands. He heard footsteps behind him then a hand settled on his arm. 

“You okay?” Michael asked. James turned to face Michael, who was crouched down next to the sofa.

“No, not really,” James replied, shaking his head softly, “but I will be.”

“Yes, you will be.” Michael said confidently, squeezing James’ arm. James held his arms out to Michael, a parody of the same gesture he’d made to Sarah less than an hour before, only this time his embrace was returned enthusiastically as Michael wrapped his arms around James tightly and held him close. They sat like that for a while, until James was sure Michael must be getting uncomfortable, crouching down like that, though he didn’t show signs of discomfort.

“Will you stay?” James whispered, afraid to break the delicate silence around them, “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Of course.”

***

James woke up in the middle of the night, shaking and his skin felt damp and clammy to the touch. He got out of bed and ran to the bathroom as nausea took over his body, hoping he didn’t wake Michael who had been asleep in the bed next to him. He hated feeling this way, sick and weak. Worst of all was the knowledge that it was the supposed cure making him feel this way. He heaved into the toilet bowl again and missed the sound of the door opening and footsteps entering. He didn’t register Michael’s presence until he felt a damp washcloth being pressed to his forehead and gentle fingers lifting his chin up to drink from the cool glass of water pressed to his lips. He drank gratefully and leaned back into Michael’s embrace, welcoming the strong arms that wrapped around him.

“You done?” James nodded, his face resting against Michael’s chest. “Okay, let’s get you back to bed.” He helped James up into a standing position and flushed the toilet while James brushed his teeth. He wrapped his arm around James’ waist and led him back to the bedroom where James huddled beneath the covers for warmth, still shaking.

“Sorry.”

“What for? Don’t be silly.”

“It’s just, I feel so...” James broke off as another set of shivers wracked his body.

“It’s ok, come here.” Michael said, scooting up behind James and pulling his shivering body into a warm embrace. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

***

“I’m sorry, James, but it isn’t good news.” The consultant sounded sympathetic at least, he’d heard horror stories about cold-hearted consultants who thought they were God and treated their patients like a lab study rather than a human being, but Dr Stevens wasn’t like that. She had a kind face and she explained things to James clearly, in a way he could understand but without being patronising. It hadn’t stopped his mother from analyzing the degree certificates on the wall though, and making pointed comments about the university she went to. 

James had taken Michael’s advice and asked his mother to come with him to the appointment, Michael came with him too. He was glad that he had both of them there, especially as it sounded like he wasn’t going to get good news.

“I’m afraid the treatment isn’t working. The cancer isn’t responding to the chemotherapy. The only option we have now is to operate and remove the tumour.”

James’ mum gasped and brought her hand up to her mouth. James felt Michael’s hand cover his own where it was resting on his knee.

“But he’ll be ok then, right?” James’ mum asked. “You can still get rid of the cancer?”

“Well, if we manage to remove all of the cancer then yes, there is no reason why James cannot lead a normal, healthy life, without the cancer ever coming back.” James’ mum breathed a sigh of relief.

“However,” Dr Stevens continued, “in operations such as these there are always certain risks and unfortunately, since the tumour lies so close to the spine, the risk with this particular surgery is very high. There’s a very real chance that James won’t survive the operation, but if we don’t operate, the cancer will spread.”

“...and I’ll die anyway.” James finished. The consultant looked at him with a sympathetic smile.

“Oh my baby!” cried James’ mum, sobbing into her tissue. James looked at Michael on his other side, silently communicating _‘see, this is why I don’t involve her.’_

“It’s ok mum,” James said, taking his mother’s hand, “I still have a chance, right?” He looked at the consultant.

“Yes,” said Dr Stevens, “and you shouldn’t give up hope because of the risks involved, I know I’ve made this sound very scary but I just need you to be aware of the dangers involved with this kind of surgery.” _In case I die and my mum decides to sue the hospital,_ James added mentally.

“I assure you, James, that you will be in the very best possible hands and we are going to do everything in our power to ensure that this surgery goes smoothly. Now, because of the urgency of this situation I have booked you in for next week...” Her voice trailed off in James’ mind. He tried to focus on noises, sensations, his mum’s quietening sobs, Michael’s hand, still gripping tight to his but all that was fading away. For the first time since he’d been diagnosed, James was actually facing up to the very real possibility that he might not beat this, he might die.

***

“I can’t play guitar.”

“What?”

“When I was a kid, I always wanted to learn to play guitar, and I just realised, I never did.” James said. It was the night before James was due to have his operation and he and Michael were sitting on their favourite bench in the park, the same place they were when James told Michael the news about his diagnosis, only this time it was dark. It was a beautiful night, clear but not too cold and the stars were out in full force; all James could think about when he looked at them was that this might be the last time.

“You know, I’ve never been to Paris?” James continued, “Crazy right? It’s just a hop and a skip away. I always said I’d go with someone special but I never did. I never learned Spanish, or went up in a hot air balloon; I’ve never climbed a mountain or jumped out of an airplane. New York!” 

“Huh?” 

“We always said we’d go to New York, boy’s weekend, remember?”

“So why don’t we?”

“What?” asked James, turning to look at Michael for the first time.

“Why don’t we go to New York? After your operation. We can celebrate you getting better.”

“How can you be so optimistic?”

“Because I have to be. Because you need me to be. Because the thought of losing you...terrifies me.” Michael exhaled, resting his head in his hands. “You know...I never told you this, but you mean more to me than anyone else in this world,” he said, looking at James and taking his hand, “I just know you’re going to be ok, you have to be, because I don’t think I can go on without you.” James let his head fall onto Michael’s shoulder as Michael wrapped his free arm around James’ back and pulled him in close. They sat like that for a long time.

***

“Hello, James, my name is Dr Patel, I’m going to be your anaesthetist today. I’m just injecting the anaesthetic now, It’s going to take a few moments to kick in.”

“Mum, I’m scared.” James reached out to his mother.

“I know, sweetheart,” she said, taking his hand in both of hers, “but it’s going to be fine.”

“Mrs McAvoy, we need to take your son into theatre now.”

“Just one minute, please.”

“Michael.” James said, turning to face his friend, his hand still caught up in his mum’s the other side of him.

“I’m here.” Michael said. He kissed two fingers and pressed them to James’ lips.

“James? We really have to go now.” The hospital attendants came to wheel James into the operating theatre. The last thing he saw before everything went black was Michael, his arm linked with James’ mum, mouthing the words “I love you.”

***

When James woke up everything was hazy, fuzzy.

“Hey, you.” A voice said. James turned his head. Michael. “How you feeling?” he asked.

“Morphine is gooood!” sing-songed James. Michael smiled and pulled the chair he was sitting on closer to the bed. “Water.” James croaked. Michael poured some water from the jug beside the bed into a glass and brought it to James’ lips, which he drank gratefully.

“Your mum was here earlier,” Michael said, “but she looked exhausted so I told her to go home.”

“Ok. Come here,” said James holding his hand out to Michael. Michael got up from his chair and moved so he was perched on the bed next to James. James crooked his fingers at Michael. “Closer, I want to tell you something.” Michael bent his head down so James could whisper in his ear. “I love you,” James whispered, he pulled back and gazed and Michael with a soppy grin on his face.

“Now, that’s just the drugs talking,” Michael said but the smile on his face matched James’ own. James shook his head and tapped his lips with two fingers. 

“Kiss.”

“Well, if you insist.” Michael said, bending to meet those smiling lips with his own.

***

“This is gross.”

“Oh for goodness sake. Just rub it in.”

“I can’t! It’s too disgusting, I can’t touch it!”

“You’re not supposed to touch it! Use a cotton wool bud!”

“Ok, ok. They had to cut you open on your back, the one place you can’t reach the wound to dress it yourself!”

“Quit being such a baby, my mum does this for me all the time.”

“It looks like something from a B-Horror movie, I feel like an alien worm is going to burst out any moment.” James burst into fits of giggles. “Stop moving!” Michael complained, “I can’t put the dressing on properly if you keep wriggling around.” This only prompted another burst of giggles from James. “Ok, all done,” said Michael when James had finally managed to control himself long enough for Michael to put the fresh bandage on his wound. James stood up and put his T-shirt back on then did a twirl, his arms outstretched. He looked good. His hair had begun to grow back and his face had lost that sickly pallor that it had when he was ill. His eyes had regained their former brightness. 

“Very handsome,” Michael said, “all ready for date night.” James grinned.

“We could still go out you know, I feel up to it.”

“I think pizza and Shark Week on the sofa is the perfect first date, besides,” Michael said, stepping into James’ space, “I think you should save your energy for the bedroom later.” He crowded closer to James and wrapped both arms around his waist.

“Oh?” James said, lifting both arms and placing them around Michael neck, “and what’s happening in the bedroom later?”

“How about I give you a sneak preview?” Michael pulled James impossibly close and kissed him gently. He led them both over to the sofa and fell back onto it, pulling James down on top of him. He was mindful of James’ scar as he ran his hands down James’ back, kissing his way from just under James’ ear, down his jaw and neck. James gasped as the doorbell rang.

“Pizza.”

“Hmmm, I’ve changed my mind; I think I’ll have you instead.” Michael got out between kisses.

“Michael, let me up, I want pizza!” James whined. “What happened to saving my energy? I won’t have any left if you keep teasing me!” Michael relented with a sigh and let James go answer the door to the pizza delivery person.

When James came back with the pizza they got themselves comfortable on the sofa, James curled up in Michael’s arms as he munched on his slice of pepperoni and glanced with amusement between the shark on the TV screen, tearing its prey apart with ruthless precision and Michael, who was doing an eerily similar thing with his slice of pizza.

“What?” asked Michael between mouthfuls.

“Nothing,” James replied. “Just thinking about how much I love you.” Michael kissed him.

“I love you too, more than anything.” James smiled. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was finally going to be ok. No, more than ok, he was going to be extraordinary.


End file.
